


Echoes of Tears

by Epitumbidia



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 08:42:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12884199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epitumbidia/pseuds/Epitumbidia
Summary: Within the Cave of the Gi, the sight of lost family reunited is too much for Aerith. She reminisces in a quiet moment, her bodyguard never a step behind.Written for #clerithmonth 2017





	Echoes of Tears

Within the cave of the Gi, where the remnants of war and decay lay at their feet, watching Red XIII—no, Nanaki—discover the truth about his father’s courage strikes deep inside Aerith’s heart. She wants nothing more than to run up to Nanaki and hug him, her joy overwhelming as she sees someone she considers a kind of kindred finding pride in his heritage and family. When Buganhagen asks for a moment alone with his grandson, Aerith stares above at the petrified figure, the temptation to stay overwritten by Cloud’s hand on her shoulder, bidding her to walk out with him.

They walk only a few feet, far enough to where they could no longer see Nanaki and Buganhagen, but she can’t bear to look at Cloud; she leans over on to the side of the cave wall, resting her weight against it as thoughts of her own mother—or rather her birth mother, Ifalna— come unbidden: the cries Aerith heard while her mother’s body was subjected to test after test, to painful procedures, and degrading experiments—all in the name of science, of finding the promised land. Yet when Nanaki gazed upon his father, immortalized in stone, there was only pride.

The joy she once felt now rots inside her heart, twisting itself into an ugly kind of envy and resentment. There was no joy, no pride whenever she remembers her birth mother—Shinra made sure of that. Only a hollow shell of a person remained by the time the opportunity to escape was with their grasp. Ifalna’s skin was pale, the veins clearly visible throughout her malnourished body, with a voice that couldn’t reach higher than a whisper. That’s the memory Aerith carries with her whenever she remembered her: lying dead on the stairs of a train station, sobbing over the body a woman she barely knew; yet, Aerith loved her birth mother as only a child would for the only person who held her close with love in her touch, who caressed her to sooth her pain, who endured the horrific abuse from the scientists to spare her as much as she could from their wicked intentions.

All the memories flow through Aerith, sinking so deeply into herself that she nearly trips back when notices a hand on her shoulder which holds her upright. She doesn’t need to look up to know it’s Cloud helping her as she shuts her eyes tight, trying her hardest to will away the tears that threaten to wash down her face. She can sense him moving in closer as he gently pushes her back against the wall, pulling back when she waves him off. Standing in silence, Aerith takes measured breaths in and out as she ponders how she’s going to explain herself, but not before she hears Cloud whisper, “You don’t have to tell me anything, Aerith. I’m here, OK?” Such a simple statement, but Cloud’s reassurance breaks the dam open inside her, the tears now freely flowing as she covers her face with her hands in shame.

“I’m sorry, Cloud…I don’t know how to say this to you, to anybody. But seeing Re—I’m sorry, Nanaki—seeing his eyes just glow at the sight of his father, I felt so happy for him. I wanted to stay, to join him in that moment but walking away only reminded me of my…” Aerith rasped out as she kept looking away from Cloud before the hiccups interrupted her, silently thankful for the quiet moment.

The thud of footsteps against the rough, hardened floor signals Cloud’s movement, the touch of his left shoulder next to her right one the first time he’s made contact with her outside of battle or whenever they need to escape from whatever dangerous situations their little group finds themselves in. Aerith drops her hands to her sides then, turning her head up in front; she stares off into some invisible point, leaning slightly into Cloud absentmindedly. When a large hand grasps hers, she squeezes back, the heat of Cloud’s hand calming her. She turns her head to face Cloud, his eyes glowing with concern.

Bringing herself to smile softly, she can only whisper “Thank you,” to him, not knowing what else to say. By this point, he knows the important beats in her life, but this is the first time he’s seen this melancholic side from her—the side she hides from public view, the armor of her magic and her street smarts shielding her from the horrors that roam the streets of Midgar. Outside of the stifling walls of that city, she can fight on her own two feet, travel the wild lands, and experience new peoples and cultures. And it was due to this ex-SOLIDER, her bodyguard. The same bodyguard who now draws her hand up to his chest, holding it with both of his hands as he massaged with his fingers and palms.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Cloud asserted, keeping his voice low as he continued, “I’m here for you.”

Aerith sighs, closing her eyes as Cloud’s hands work through the tension in her palm, tracing up her fingers until each part has been thoroughly massaged; When Cloud stops, he places a soft kiss on the back of her hand before moving it close to his chest, where the thudding of his heart beats against her palm. These tiny gestures are all Aerith could have asked for in that moment; her thanks to him involve placing soft butterfly kisses on Cloud’s cheek, turning away from the wall and moving in front of Cloud, lying her weight against his body. Cloud’s hands reach behind her as he wraps his arms behind her lower back as he leans his head down on the crook of shoulder. Aerith mimics this, and together they share in each other’s silence, the teardrops fading from the warmth of their embrace.

This moment, this silence, belongs to them. It’s these understated moments of affection that Aerith looks forward to.


End file.
